*Everyday Chatter

Ginormous and disgusting bed bug billboard goes up in Times Square--directly over the Flash Dancers gentleman's club. There are so many "special" souvenirs you can take home from your trip to NYC. Tourists beware!

from Wirehead's flickr

Take a walking tour of Astoria with author Sam Lipsyte. [FW]

Scary, outsized glass tower for 1st Ave and 5th halted. [EVG]

Chasing the city's ghost signs. [FNY]

Fox News revisits Ray's. [NMNL]

"Pop pluralism," aka street art, in the gallery. [NYT]

Who says the new Nouvel glass tower "conjures a downtown New York we once loved and can now barely remember"? [Curbed]

The city gets a new library--with (some) real books in it. [CR]

“Do you still love New York?...Sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t.” [WIC]

Meatpacking Art

Victor Kerlow is an illustrator whose drawings have appeared in places like The New Yorker and the New York Times. He's also got a cool art blog. I like his stuff--it reminds me of Ben Katchor. Kerlow also spent some time drawing the meatpackers of the Meatpacking District. I asked him about that and here's what he said, along with some of his meatpacking pictures.



When were these drawings done? Did you have a sense that the meatpackers would soon be vanishing?

All the drawings were done from 2005 to 2007. At that point, the area had already changed significantly from the way it was when I grew up there, and there were a lot of signs that the meatpacking plants were not going to be around for much longer. The drawings were all done on location, in the early mornings, like 5 or 6 am, while the guys were doing their last few hours of work. I drew while standing in the refrigerated cutting rooms, directly from life. And all the plants are temperature controlled to be very, very cold, so standing still for 20 minutes with my hands exposed, trying to finish a drawing wasn't the most pleasant drawing environment.



How did you gain access to the interior of the packing plants and to the men at work?

I knew the guys started work around 3 or 4 in the morning, so one day, around 5 a.m., I walked over to all the different companies in their 4-block radius, and just went in and talked with whoever was in charge. After going to about eight different places, I think only three were okay with me drawing in there. There were all kinds of "New York characters" in those places, which was one of the reasons the meatpacking plants are so appealing to me.



What was it about the Meatpacking District that attracted you visually?

To me, the meatpacking plants are an exciting part of a neighborhood that is becoming increasingly monotonous. Initially I wanted to do more abstract drawings of floating meat, but realized that if I could gain access to the plants, it would be stupid of me not to document them as a whole, with portraits of the workers, and drawings of the meat and environments as well. Dead animals and carcasses are pretty powerful symbols in art history, and I think after however many years, any art-loving person is bound to want to draw or paint or capture them in some way.



Any particularly vivid meatpacking stories to share?

I remember a fight that broke out at one of the places that is now closed (big surprise). This grumpy old Russian dude got into an argument with the main guy in charge, Adam, a younger, Italian guy. Adam and the Russian guy start shoving back and forth and then WHAM he punches Adam in the chest and Adam stumbles back against a huge piece of hanging meat. Two other workers come over and grab the Russian dude, and there is a lot of silence afterwards. I was drawing right next to them the whole time and figured it was a better idea to just ignore it. The next day I was there, the Russian guy was at work and everything was just as normal as it was before--but a fight in a freezing room full of hanging meat slabs is too awesome-looking to not mention.



Is there anything left in “MePa” that would still inspire you to make art about it?

Well, I grew up and currently live just a few blocks north from that area, so I don’t think I would ever turn my back on it. Right now, of course, it is a pretty shitty place to be, for different reasons than before. Grime-covered sidewalks that smell like dead animals and waste, I can deal with. It's the Los Angeles-ization of the area that makes me want to vomit. The neighborhood will always be important to me, but I wish it was still serving a useful purpose, with jobs that support working people, rather than being a shopping mall for rich out-of-towners.

I also incorporate the construction and half-finished buildings that exist around the neighborhood into my comics sometimes, so at least there's that. Even if the final building is a real eyesore, I can try to take advantage of the intricacy and draw-ability of its unfinished stages.



As a native New Yorker, you’ve seen many places come and go, and many neighborhoods change. Do you see the Meatpacking District’s shift as just “the way it goes in New York” or as something more?

Every city needs an eclectic selection of environments to be an interesting place, and the Meatpacking District from 15, 20, 30 years ago was a place that was a foil to somewhere like the Upper East Side. Now it is actually some work to find a distinguishable neighborhood in Manhattan. The city is all starting to slide together.

I'm not opposed to change, but if it isn’t really for the better, then yeah, it is stupid and pointless and frustrating. When I walk around in my neighborhood I feel different, and angry at all these people that didn’t enjoy the neighborhood even just five years ago. They are here for all the wrong reasons. These people can buy the same shit and eat the same expensive food somewhere else.

Also, it should just be said that while it is a sad thing to watch places you used to hang out at disappear, there are still tons of reasons to love this city, and countless things for me to continue drawing here. I don't think I'm ready to leave just yet.

*Everyday Chatter

The awning is up, the racks are packed, and the new Tokio 7 opens tonight in the 7th Street Tumor:


Grieve grieves for the Blarney Stone. [EVG]

Yesterday at the Atlantic Yards protest. [Gothamist]

The Observer visits Ray's on Ave. A: "a symbol for local residents who feel they have seen every quirk of their neighborhood ironed out and turned into a Chase Bank." [NYO]

Lucy is back. [NMNL]

When construction steals your sky. [CR]

TrustoCorp says "Locals Only" on Ludlow. But who are the locals anyway? [BB]

*Everyday Chatter

*Live-blogging the AY protest. [Curbed]

Today: Protest the Atlantic Yards groundbreaking. [PMFA]

Warm up for the protest with the Battle of Brooklyn trailer. [FIB]

In the Atlantic Yards footprint, residents and businesses have been given 30 days to get out. [NYDN]

Sad news for those of us hoping Village Paper would reopen after the fire. A FOR RENT sign appears on the plywood:


When Astor Place was wide open. [FP]

First, Andre Breton quotes, now Diesel's Stupid ads get stuck with price stickers. [BB]

Remembering the Night Owl Cafe. [NYNS]

A scrubbing for the old Tin Palace. [EVG]

The Save Ray's benefit nets $3,000. [Villager]

Destroying Yankee Stadium. [NYT]

Long Island City: Hacking up lungs, drinking OE with straws. [NYS]

Last Day at Desirs

Today's post was written by Stacy Torres, a Chelsea native and longtime customer of Les Desirs, who provides a report and photos of the beloved bakery's last day, February 25.



We sat huddled at a corner table on the final day at Les Desirs Patisserie, the last in a string of mom-and-pop bakeries that occupied the same Chelsea storefront since 1962. As snow curtained the windows, we watched the flakes fall and the place disappear before our eyes.

Under ordinary circumstances, most people probably would have stayed home that day. The heavy, wet snow coated the sidewalks with slick sludge, and many older customers can’t risk a fall. But neither snow nor rain nor gloom of night could keep us regulars away from the bakery on its last day of business. I found many of the familiar faces that had kept me company during the six years I went there.



Our resident nutritionist, Frank, sat in the corner. At eighty-five, he continues to work as a writer and always entertains our medical inquiries. We all know he’s a trooper, having made a striking recovery from major hip surgery last fall, but even still it was a nice surprise to see him. Another longtime customer turned up despite battling a bad cold. She had to come for the last day, she said as she brushed snow from her shoulders and shook off her black hat crusted over with ice.



The butter-colored walls were nearly bare with the exception of a leftover Valentine’s Day decoration, a wreath with two teddy bears underneath a banner that read “I Love You.” The owner said with a mischievous glint in his eyes that he would leave it for the landlord, showing he hadn’t lost his sense of humor about the bitter fight to keep his store open. We watched the kitchen being stripped of its last pieces of equipment.



More people crowded in and a few spontaneously erupted into song. The sweet strains of “Bye Bye Blackbird” filled the space: “Pack up all my care and woe/ Here I go, singing low/ Bye bye blackbird.” For that moment I think we all forgot about how the place vanished a little more with each passing minute.

Later that evening, when the store was nearly empty, another regular filed in. His son had urged him to show up for the last day. “I told him he’d better join the witness protection program if I bust my ass on the way over here,” he said as he walked in and parked his cane in the corner. At his request I snapped a picture of him sitting at his usual seat by the window. We were the last two to leave.



Looking back, we never called the bakery by its given name, Les Desirs, which means “the desires” in French. But I now realize how fitting a name it was. This place satisfied not only our craving for sweets but our desire for company, for community, and for connection. When the bakery hummed with chatter, the place felt more like a social club than a business, with the modest price of admission being a cup of coffee or tea. More than ever, New Yorkers need places like these.


See Also:
Singing at Les Desirs
Fighting for Les Desirs
Desirs' Demise

*Everyday Chatter

Tonight: Brooklyn Documentary Night at Freddy's Bar...go before it's gone. [FIB]

Chelsea Hotel residents winning so far in battle against bars. [Eater]

Breast-milk cheese mom defends herself. Murray's reviews her flavor: "It was slippery, slightly crunchy and tasted like pickles...thumbs down." [NYP]

Avenue C in 1984. [EVG]

West 19th in 1997. [FP]

The "Vote for Burns" people attack the New Museum and "the platinum coast of downtown Manhattan, formerly known as the Bowery." [LM] & [HyperA]

Check out the pics from Ray's benefit. [SG]

A happy, post-benefit Ray opens shop for the day. [NMNL]

Tale of Two Cities

A tale of two cities is revealed by poking around a new website called Bundle that shows you the spending habits of neighborhoods by zip code. I compared the west East Village (10003 zip) with Brownsville, Brooklyn, which seems like one place gentrification has yet to reach (there's no Starbucks there yet).

Here's how East Villagers spend their money each month:



And here's how Brownsville does it:



As you can see, shopping and eating are high on East Villagers' priorities. Each month, the average East Villager consumes $2,639 worth of food, drink, and products. In Brownsville, most of their money goes to the house and home, health and family. They spend, on average, $326 a month on shopping, eating, and drinking.

On Bundle, you can also click on the bubbles to look deeper and see how the spending breaks down and where it is being spent. Again, here's the East Village, where people spend $421 a month on clothing and shoes, at Barney's, J. Crew, and Zappos. And $702 a month on "general shopping," at Bloomingdale's, Saks, and Bergdorf's. The Astor Place K-Mart, too.





And below are Brownsville's numbers. They spend $64 a month on clothing and shoes, at Gucci, Marshalls, and Payless. Generally, they spend $140 a month shopping at places like BJ's, Target, Costco, and Wal-Mart--the big boxes.

Interestingly, while there is a huge disparity in how much is spent, the percentage is the same--both neighborhoods are spending 12% of their income to shop. And we see a very American problem in that lack of thrift across the socioeconomic spectrum.





How about eating and drinking? In the East Village, people are dropping $842 per month on dining out. At Starbucks! And Danny Meyer's Gramercy Tavern, among others. They spend 14% of their income to do so.



In Brownsville, that number drops to $20 a month dining out. And that $20, just 1% of these Brooklynites' monthly income, goes to Red Lobster, McDonald's, or Applebee's.



More and more, it seems we will have only two options for where we eat and shop: High-end, big-name businesses and chains for the rich and low-end, big-name chains and big-boxes for the poor. The American way of consumption is eating New York City from both ends.